


the bodyguard

by zigsexual (anythingbutloud)



Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: Bodyguard AU, F/M, M/M, and riley as... a waitress, feat. secretservice!drake, the beaumonts as a political dynasty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:55:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26382985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutloud/pseuds/zigsexual
Summary: drake is secret service assigned to protect visiting dignitaries. it's never been a problem until king liam of cordonia shows up.
Relationships: Liam/Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont/Main Character (The Royal Romance)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> this is more of a series of drabbles cobbled together into a storyline than a real chronological fic. it flows, but i leave a lot of spaces in between because i never actually intended it to turn into something longer. and then... it did. c'est la vie.

Drake studies him, this king of a country he’s never heard of. He looks far too young for such a weighted title, even with the sliver of grey in his hair. The only creases in his skin are from smiles, and although he maintains a practiced composure, Drake can tell from the spark in his eyes that he certainly must have something to smile about. 

Or… someone? Yet, in all the briefings, no one had mentioned a queen. 

“I’m Liam,” he says, shaking Drake’s hand with both of his, a gesture of earnest sincerity that catches Drake off guard. “Thank you in advance for your service. If I could steal a moment of your time, I’d like to introduce you to my Cordonian security detail.”

Drake nods, pulling his hand back stiffly to his side. “Absolutely, your majesty.”

“Liam.” The king corrects, an air of amused defiance in his tone.

Drake crosses his arms. “You know it’s my job not to call you that.”

Liam seems taken aback by the casual retort, and his surprise quickly gives way to a smile. It’s a good smile, Drake thinks — warm and welcoming, crinkling the corners of his eyes. 

“Then I suppose it’s my job to circumvent,” he answers easily. “Which reminds me that I haven’t been entirely acquainted with you yet.”

“Walker,” Drake says, pausing for a moment before adding an uncharacteristically bold, “Your majesty.”

It makes Liam’s eyes sparkle with a secret mischief, an expression which sends a funny feeling over Drake, an odd sort of twisting in his gut that causes him to avert his eyes too quickly. 

“Walker,” Liam says, and Drake can’t help but think how good his name sounds wrapped in Liam’s voice. 

It’s this thought that somehow spurs him onward, letting Liam in just a bit more than usual. “Drake Walker.”

Liam surveys him, equal parts appraising and pleased. “Do you always introduce yourself like James Bond?”

“Only to kings.”

“You know a lot of kings, then?” The teasing lilt of Liam’s voice has him distracted, completely unaware of why he’s even ended up in this conversation in the first place. He hasn’t considered the possibility that his security target would be so… enjoyable. 

Drake pauses, taking Liam in: his dark hair, his fitted suit, the surprising strength in his stature. And of course, that smile, too charming for his own good. 

“I know enough,” Drake answers.


	2. chapter two

“I don’t see why this is necessary,” Liam sighs, “It’s been ages since anyone shot at me.”

Drake continues tightening the straps at the back of the bulletproof vest, ignoring the admonishments. “Ages, huh?”

“I was much younger,” Liam answers, relaxing his shoulders so Drake can finish his work. “And most likely not the intended target.”

“The fact that someone tried to shoot you at all is reason enough for this,” Drake checks the harnesses at Liam’s sides, fingers just barely brushing skin. “Not a regular occurrence for most of us.”

“Really? I’ve heard otherwise, regarding your country.”

“Yeah, well.” Drake steps back to survey his handiwork, Liam glancing at him over his shoulder. “Right to bear arms. Has it’s vices, I guess.”

“Speaking of bare arms…”

The humor dances on the edges of Liam’s words, and his expression would be a perfect picture of royal stoicism if not for the sparkle in his eyes. 

“Right.” Drake feels his face heat up, though he’s done this a million times for a million different assignments. 

He pulls Liam’s shirt off the hanger, but before he has a chance to pass it off, Liam’s phone rings. 

“Sorry,” Liam says before he answers with a brisk hello. Drake sees no need for an apology. He’s only here to do his job, and he’s used to being in the background. 

Liam attempts to balance the phone against his ear and shoulder, holding out his free hand towards Drake for his shirt. Drake makes a face at him, gesturing towards the phone. “Straighten up. I’ll do it, take your call.”

Liam mouths ‘thank you’ before he slips back into that focused expression, an authority in his tone that wasn’t there before. Drake works Liam’s arms through the sleeves of his shirt, careful not to catch the fabric on any of the fasteners for the vest. He’s sure this article of clothing alone must cost twice his salary, and he’s not about to ruin it. 

He smoothes the material down Liam’s back before making his way to the front, buttoning up from the bottom. 

“I’ve spoken with them at length about this,” Liam is saying, phone pressed tightly to his ear. “If we cancel the entire arrangement, the optics will — yes, I understand there’s a financial risk, which is precisely the concern.”

Drake wonders briefly how important one must be to have the phone number of a king. He tries to picture Liam sending a text, posting an Instagram, but the man in front of him sometimes seems so removed from time completely that it’s too hard to imagine. 

He doesn’t realize he’s lost in thought until he glances up and catches Liam’s eyes on him, his mouth turned up in a quizzical smile. Only then does he notice how his hands have stilled against Liam’s chest, fiddling absently with the middle button of his shirt. 

The sudden eye contact, barely a foot apart, sends an embarrassed blush to his cheeks. What is it about this particular assignment that has his mind wandering so much? Why can’t he just get a grip?

Liam’s voice has lowered slightly, seemingly in response to Drake’s closeness. “I’m happy to meet with them in person about it when I’m back, but I won’t be traveling to the duchy. They’re welcome at the palace, I just think… no, I understand. The issue is the potential to establish unwanted precedent here.”

Even Liam’s mundane phone calls carry such an air of importance. Drake can’t fathom how someone so entirely powerful manages to be so approachable in person. 

He’s slower than usual on the buttons, taking his time as he listens to the richness of Liam’s voice, a soothing sound that commands respect as much as it bleeds warmth. Liam, this King, this ridiculous figurehead of old guard monarchy… well, he’s certainly something special. 

“Absolutely,” Liam says, briefly locking eyes with Drake as he begins to work the last button. “I appreciate your time. Send my best to your family.”

When he hangs up, he drops the phone slowly to his side, not taking his eyes off Drake. Drake, meanwhile, fumbles with the button due to a sudden acute onset of sweaty hand that has absolutely not been there before. 

“Thank you,” Liam says, his voice like the last sip of whiskey in a smoky dive bar. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” Drake answers, “And you’re welcome.” 

Liam smiles, spreading out his arms, and Drake steps back, finally finished. “How do I look?”

“You look…” He struggles to find the right word, but all that comes to mind are things he probably shouldn’t say. Stunning? Handsome? “Bulletproof.”

“I suppose that is the agenda.”

Without really thinking, Drake darts forward again and undoes that final top button he’d spent so long fiddling with, his fingers briefly brushing across the skin of Liam’s throat before pulling back. 

Liam looks at him, bemused. 

“No one should be completely bulletproof,” Drake says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Anyway, that’s what I’m for.”

“It’s a good thing we have other security, then.” Liam says, briefly lifting his hand to press his fingers against the exposed skin too. “I’d hate to risk my heart just because of you.”

“I’d hate for you to risk your heart for anyone.”

This time, Liam’s smile sits in his eyes, like a secret waiting to be spoken. “I’ll follow your lead.”


	3. chapter three

That night, Liam asks him to stay behind in his hotel room, mentioning some security concerns he wants to go over. It’s a bit odd, but Drake doesn’t pay it much attention until the door shuts behind him and Liam’s composure wavers. 

“There’s bad news,” He says abruptly, turning to meet Drake’s eyes. Drake looks back in bewilderment. 

“What is it?” he says, wondering what on earth could be bad enough to involve him in this kind of private meeting. His mind starts racing, running through all the potential threats to the Cordonian monarchy he had been briefed on ahead of the assignment. No way a country that small had a long list of enemies, right?

Liam bites his lip, anxious in a way Drake hasn’t seen before, and says what is potentially the last possible thing he would have expected. “It’s… ah, I think I may have to fire you.”

“What?” 

Liam’s cheeks color, though Drake can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or shame. “You’ve been… you should know it’s not your fault. I’ll leave you with the highest commendation.”

“You can’t fire me,” Drake says, incredulous. “I work for the federal government of the United States.”

“Well, then I suppose you could say it’s more of an arranged reassignment.”

“Hold on,” Drake crosses his arms, frowning. “What are you talking about? Is this some kind of weird joke?”

Liam sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not explaining this well at all, am I? I just… I was going to have my security chief tell you, to keep it professional, but I felt like… perhaps, it should come from me.”

“I’m not concerned with who’s telling me,” Drake retorts, still looking at Liam in confusion, “I’m concerned with why this is even a discussion in the first place. I’m assigned to you because I’m good at my job, you know.”

“I know.”

“Then care to explain?”

Liam bites his lip, looking more ruffled than Drake’s ever seen him. “I should have stuck with the plan, had Bastien talk to you. I’m not good at these kinds of things.”

Drake raises an eyebrow. “What, you fire a lot of people in your big fancy kingdom?”

“Listen —“

He knows he’s toeing the line of professionalism, but something about the prospect of losing out on such an unexpectedly enjoyable assignment has his stubborn side showing through. He tries to get ahold of himself, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine. You know what, I’m sorry. I should just head out now, get the replacement detail briefed for tomorrow. You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I feel that I do.”

“It’s just business,” Drake averts his gaze, shrugs in what he hopes is a nonchalant enough gesture. “Not my place. I can respect that.”

Liam just looks at him, unreadable in that way he always is. Must be a royalty thing, a poker face trained since birth. 

“As long as it’s nothing I did,” he continues, “I know I’m a little rough around the edges, and maybe that’s not what you’re used to, being a king and all… but I understand.”

“Drake,” Liam says. 

The informality of his first name is unusual. He lifts his eyes back to Liam’s, trying to maintain a sort of dignity even in the face of his bewildered curiosity. 

“It…” Liam rakes his fingers through his hair again, and the gesture is so human, so normal, that it endears him to Drake all over again. “This is quite an odd situation for me. I’m trying to think of the right words.”

“I’m not picky.”

“Well, I am.”

“Spoken like a true king.”

This makes Liam laugh, which shortly dissolves into another pained expression. “You’re not making this easy.”

“What, firing me?” Drake raises an eyebrow. “You expect me to?”

“Of course not,” Liam smiles, though he’s wringing his hands in front of him. “I should have known better.”

He pauses, his expression fading into a frown. “I really should have known better.”

There’s a silence between them, stretching too long. Drake knows that he’s far overstayed the reasonable amount of time for a bodyguard that’s just been fired, yet something about Liam always has him reluctant to let go. And… well, he could just be imagining it, but he’s fairly certain Liam feels the same way. 

“If you must know,” Liam finally says, his voice softer than usual, “I was… concerned, so to speak, that my encounters with you were veering into something more casual than is appropriate.”

“Oh, I —“

Liam cuts him off. “Before you say anything, I want you to know the blame is with me. I knew that my feelings towards you were becoming a distraction, and it’s unfair to expect you to do your part when I can’t even manage to do mine.”

Drake just stares at him. “Your… feelings?”

Liam sighs. “Do you have to make me say it?”

“…Yes?”

Liam cracks a smile at that, though he still looks embarrassed. “I… well, I suppose I’ve found myself somewhat… infatuated with you.”

“Oh.” Drake’s mind is running a mile a minute, and still he can’t think of a single response. “That’s all?”

Liam is blushing, which is — well. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just… I mean, I don’t see how that impacts my ability to protect you.” Even as he speaks, he’s still processing, still trying to make sense of what Liam has said.

“It doesn’t,” Liam answers, meeting Drake’s eyes even with the flush spreading past his cheeks now. “It’s me, really. You’re my bodyguard, and it would be wildly inappropriate of me to ask you to continue as such when…”

He trails off, looking at Drake sheepishly. It’s the first time he’s seen Liam entirely vulnerable like this, and it only serves to make him more attractive. 

The reality is, of course, that Liam has always been attractive — has essentially redefined everything Drake had thought to be his type — and Drake still isn’t entirely sure that he’s not misreading this whole conversation. 

“When what?” He asks, tentative, hoping for an answer he hasn’t let himself dream of before. 

“Come on, Drake,” Liam says softly, taking a slow step closer to him, “I can’t pretend everything is strictly professional between us when I also can’t stop thinking about kissing you.”

Drake feels his stomach drop in the very best way, like the first hill on a rollercoaster with far too long a line. “Say that again.”

“You know I —“

He doesn’t wait, striding right into Liam’s arms and kissing the words out of his mouth. 

It’s exactly as good as he’d imagined it would be, and then some.

Their lips meet with a heady spark of long-overdue passion, Drake already cradling Liam’s face and twisting into his dark hair. He’s amazed at how soft Liam is, how smooth his skin feels beneath his hands. Perhaps he shouldn’t expect anything less from a king, but then again, he hasn’t exactly made out with any other kings. 

Liam kisses him like he’s thought about a lot more than just kissing, and soon Drake feels him slip a hand underneath his jacket and wrap his fingers around Drake’s side, pulling them flush together. Drake finds himself clinging to Liam’s hair in an embarrassingly needy way, willing him as close as possible as their lips come together over and over. 

They breathe quickly in-between long, slow kisses, both acutely aware of the rarity this moment of unscheduled time is. Liam’s hand tightens against Drake’s waist, and Drake can’t help but drop his hands to Liam’s chest, pushing him back against the door and undoing buttons before he really has a chance to think. 

Liam doesn’t move to stop him, so Drake drops a kiss against his jaw before moving to his neck, mouthing a line downwards to the same movements of his fingers as they free Liam from his shirt. 

He pushes the sleeves off Liam’s shoulders as much as he can, kissing his chest before Liam wraps a hand around the back of his neck to tug him back to his lips. It’s electric and instinctive and consuming, this feeling that shoots through his veins at Liam’s touch, and it’s as though every movement shared between them is communication enough. 

He breaks from Liam’s lips only to shrug off his jacket and start unbuttoning his own shirt. His fingers are shaking, from adrenaline or desire, and Liam meets him halfway to finish out the last few buttons and finally expose his skin. 

Liam takes a deep breath, eyes falling to Drake’s chest, and it’s the first time either have taken a moment to pause since they came together. 

“I…” Liam seems lost for words, another first; in all the time Drake has known him, he’s always been remarkably well spoken despite any circumstance. Now, with his silent admiration, Drake suddenly feels exposed. 

Exposed and… fuck, what is he doing?

He crosses his arms, averting his gaze. “Maybe we should… ah, table this? I just…”

Liam looks alarmed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to —“

“No, no, you’re good,” Drake looks quickly back up, meeting Liam’s eyes. “Trust me, you’re more than good, Liam. It’s me, I’m… I’m not good at… talking about things.” He sighs. “Which is a stupid thing to say considering we weren’t talking, and honestly I’d like nothing more than to get back to the ‘not talking’ with you, but for the sake of our unique situation I feel like maybe we should… figure out what’s going on here before things get too messy?”

Liam nods. “You’re right, and I apologize for being hasty. I’m sure you understand… I mean, with the way schedules are, it’s so rare to catch a moment alone.” He runs a hand through his hair, sheepish. “And I like you, Drake. I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I like you.”

“I like you too,” Drake can’t help but crack a smile. “You’re something else, that’s for sure.”

Liam returns the smile, so dazzling in his royal perfection that it catches Drake off-guard. His whole body is reacting to the beautiful boy in front of him, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s swept Liam back up into his arms and proceeded in kissing him senseless. 

So much for talking, he thinks, stroking the planes of muscle down Liam’s back and tracing his lips with his tongue. All rational thought goes out the window when it comes to Liam — everything slips backwards into the instincts of want and need and lust. 

With each movement between them he can’t help but marvel at the this ridiculous scenario: that he, Drake Walker, would be caught up in a sexual tryst with a European monarch while still very nearly on the clock. It’s so unthinkably bizarre that he decides to stop thinking entirely, instead giving in to the way Liam makes him feel — equal parts whole and ravaged.

Ah, fuck it. 

“Do you still want to talk?” Liam murmurs against his lips, his hands doing things a king has no business doing. 

“God, no.” Drake whispers back. “Worst idea I’ve ever had. Table it.”

“Tabled.”

Liam undresses him with a reverent care that is unlike any other person he’s been with. It’s slow and deliberate and marked by kisses against each new plane of skin, Liam’s hands giving him goosebumps at the lightest of touches. He can feel himself becoming more and more infatuated by the second, gazing at Liam with his whole heart in his eyes, letting out a contented sigh when he finally brings their lips back together. 

They wind up tangled together in Liam’s bed, kissing each other in between whispers peppered with platitudes and spurred on by the heady rush of dopamine. Drake can’t stop smiling against Liam’s lips, stroking a path into the smooth skin of his hip. He’s gorgeous, an absolute idealization of what a man should be, and the fact that he wants Drake just as much is dizzying. 

Drake tries to take his time, but the prospect of finally getting his hands on every part of Liam is too tantalizing. They’re breathing heavy before too long, murmuring things that aren’t quite words anymore, and Drake can’t help but marvel at the absurdity of his situation: meant to protect a king, here he is taking him apart. 

Of course, Liam does his fair share too, and Drake never thought he’d be swearing so much in front of royalty, but fuck if he’s not glad he is. Liam pulls sounds out of him that he didn’t even know he had, leaving him panting and sweaty and terribly smitten. 

When at last they both fall quiet, Liam strokes his cheek, propped up above him and gazing down into his eyes. Drake manages a weak smile, voice still shaky. “You do this with all your bodyguards?”

“Only the cute ones.”

Liam leans in to kiss him again and he returns it gratefully, wrapping his arms around Liam’s waist and tracing across his skin. 

“Jesus,” he says, voice low, “I can’t believe I’m not being punked right now. You’re a fucking king.”

Liam presses a kiss against his temple, then his jaw. “And you’re a terrible bodyguard.”

“Hm, is that why you want me fired?”

Liam has moved to his neck now, teasing kisses across the sensitive skin. “You’re supposed to put the bulletproof vest on, not take it off.”

“I told you,” Drake says, “I don’t want you bulletproof.”

“But you do want me.”

“Thought that much was obvious.”

Liam pulls away from him suddenly, looking down at him with a surprising tenderness. “You should know I never do this.”

“Right,” Drake flashes him a smile. “Only with the cute ones.”

Liam shakes his head. “No, I’m serious. I’ve never done anything like this before. Sleeping with someone I barely know…” His voice is earnest, a match to the worship of his gaze. “You’re the only one, Drake.”

Drake blinks slowly, the words settling in as he tries to make sense of the meaning behind them. “You’ve… really? Never?”

“I’ve had relationships before, of course. But when you’re royalty… there’s a certain level of discretion required for this sort of thing. It’s not worth the effort.” He smiles gently. “Or at least, it hasn’t been until now.”

Drake feels his face grow hot, and the embarrassment he feels at the realization that Liam’s made him blush only serves to make him blush harder. “Oh.“

“Yes,” Liam echoes, “Oh.”

“Well,” Drake says, attempting to alleviate the sudden heaviness that has fallen over them, “That’s really a bummer for you, considering I already sold my story to The Cordonian Daily.”

Liam won’t stop looking at him, which is making the whole blushing ordeal immeasurably worse. “You’ll only say good things, I hope.”

“Maybe,” Drake answers. “Maybe bad things too.”

Liam laughs, which only spurs him on more. He leans up on his elbows, only inches away from Liam’s face. “Might tell them they’ve really been deprived of the body on that king of theirs, covering him up in all those medals and shit. That he’s absolutely mind-blowing in bed, way too good at things that have nothing to do with ruling, and he’s got a massive —“

Liam shuts him up with a kiss, slow and deep and breathtaking. He cards his fingers through Drake’s hair, twisting into the strands and tugging him closer, while Drake finds the planes of Liam’s chest and spreads his hands across the skin. He can’t help the sigh that slips from his lips when they finally part, eyelids so heavy he can barely make out the smile on Liam’s face. 

“You mean it?” Drake whispers, “Only me?”

Liam nods. “Only ever you.”

“Shit,” Drake leans his head back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe that. I mean, I do — I believe you — but shit.”

Liam rolls onto his side, eyes still trained on Drake, their legs brushing under the sheets. “Is it so uncommon?”

“I guess not,” Drake turns to look at him too, at the unabashed affection on his face. “But it’s just… fuck, look at you. You’re literally royalty, you probably live in some palace being rich as hell all the time, and you’re Old Hollywood hot like some actual Hallmark character.” He lets his hand wander over to Liam’s hip, slowly tracing the lines of muscle up his side. “It’s a good thing you’re not one of those Europeans wearing Speedos all the time either, because I think if the world saw what’s under that suit of yours they might eat you alive.”

Liam smiles, averting his eyes for a moment, clearly unsure how to handle the flattery. “Well… thank you.”

“Honest to god, the fact that you’re single might mean there’s hope for none of us.”

Liam goes quiet, still against his side. Drake suddenly feels like maybe he’s talked too much; maybe Cordonians don’t see fucking as such an opportunity to open the floodgates of opinion amongst one another. After all, he’d technically been a member of Liam’s staff only a few hours ago. 

“Sorry,” he starts, “Am I being too blunt? I can—“

“Drake,” Liam interrupts, “There’s something you should know. Something I should have told you earlier.”

There’s an unusual tension in Liam’s words that immediately sets him ill at ease. “Okay.”

“I’m…” Liam bites his lip, finally bringing his eyes up to meet Drake’s as he says, “I’m engaged.”


End file.
